The Return

Morning sun lay across the field in long pale bands, catching on the dew gathered along the grass. Birds called from somewhere beyond the low rise, their notes carrying easily through the stillness, and the wind moved only enough to stir the taller stalks where the earth dipped toward the road. One blade longer than the rest bent beneath the weight of a silver drop.

A fingerless glove closed around it.

Jaeshu pulled it free without slowing and slipped it between his teeth. Beside him, Lunara watched for several steps before looking ahead again.

“How do you know those aren’t poisonous?”

He shifted the canvas sack higher onto his shoulder. “Extensive Brokenbriar training.”

The archer raised her eyebrows, impressed. “How many winters does it take to memorize all of—”

“It’s grass, Lunara.”

They had been walking since first light, keeping north where the old road allowed and cutting through the fields where it did not. Mud had dried in dark streaks along the hem of Lunara’s cloak, and a thin scratch crossed one cheek beneath her eye, but otherwise the night had left surprisingly little upon either of them. Jaeshu’s clothes told much the same story: dirt at the knees, a torn edge at one sleeve, and the look of someone who had slept nowhere and intended to complain about it to no one.

Their supplies had fared better. A fresh bundle of arrows rode across Lunara’s back beside Aloy, wrapped tightly against the damp, while Jaeshu carried enough canvas and leather to make his shoulder sag beneath the weight. Smaller pouches hung from both their belts, stuffed with herbs, dried food, and whatever else they had managed to salvage along the way.

Lunara looked toward the rise ahead. “There!”

The hill rose gradually before them, its crown bright beneath the morning sun. Nothing of the camp could yet be seen beyond it, but Lunara’s pace had quickened all the same.

“They’re going to be annoyed.”

“Eh, Gaz will be annoyed.”

Jaeshu smirked. “At least Navian will sleep through all of it.”

She punched his shoulder. It came with a fraction more power than the ranger expected. Her laugh came without effort. It carried farther than either of them knew.

Across the meadow, within the fading shimmer of a transparent sphere, Gaz opened his eyes.

For most of the night the barrier had enclosed him and Oesora like a second skin around the grass, pale where her Light touched it, violet where his magic answered. Morning had thinned it almost to nothing. Only when the sun struck from the east did the curved surface reveal itself, trembling faintly around them before vanishing again against the field.

Gaz drew a slow breath. The exhaustion that had hollowed him the day before had receded. Not entirely, but enough that when his fingers closed around the staff resting across his lap, he felt something waiting there. He turned his wrist. A small violet glow stirred beneath the carved wood. Gaz watched it brighten, steady and clean, then let it fade.

Beside him, Oesora’s hands rested open upon her knees. White radiance had gathered there without strain, soft at first and then fuller, filling the space between her fingers until her skin shone beneath it. She studied the light in silence, flexing one hand as though testing something newly mended.

Gaz watched her for a moment.

“How do you feel?”

Oesora turned her hands over. The glow held. A faint smile touched her mouth.

The wizard nodded. The sphere around them dissolved without ceremony, its last traces passing through the grass like mist under sunlight.

Then Lunara laughed again.

Her brother’s head turned sharply toward the southern rise. Oesora followed his gaze. For a moment there was nothing but the long slope and the pale morning beyond it. Then two figures appeared along the crest, dark against the sky, one with a bow across her back and the other carrying far too much over one shoulder.

Gaz was on his feet before either of them reached the bottom. Lunara spotted them almost at once.

“Well,” she called, “you’re all still here!”

“You were meant to return yesterday.” Gaz planted the end of his staff into the ground. “Before sundown, you said.”

Jaeshu continued toward them. “Good morning.”

“That was also yesterday.”

Lunara laughed again as she crossed the last stretch of field and wrapped Gaz in a quick embrace. He accepted it with affection, one arm pinned awkwardly between them by his staff. When she released him, he looked her over once from head to foot.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s a scratch.”

Gaz frowned at her. Oesora reached them a moment later and took Lunara’s hands in hers, her relief quieter but no less visible. Jaeshu received only a look at first, though Oesora’s expression softened when she saw that he was standing without favoring either leg.

“You are both all right?”

Jaeshu let the sack slide from his shoulder. It struck the ground with enough weight to make something glass shift inside. “We survived.”

Gaz looked down at the sack, then back at him. “What happened?”

Jaeshu reached up and removed the grass from his mouth. “Goblins.”

“And a troll.” Lunara exhaled through her nose.

Gaz stared at her. “You two saw a troll?”

Jaeshu bent and caught the sack by its strap. “A very large troll.”

For several seconds Gaz seemed to be waiting for the rest of the joke. None came.

“You fought... a troll.”

Jaeshu spit out a laugh and straightened. “No. No, we did not fight the troll.”

Gaz rubbed one hand over his face. Oesora laughed softly beside him. Some of the tension left his shoulders with the sound. “Come on,” he said at last. “You can explain the rest before Karneth starts shouting loudly enough to wake half the countryside.”

Lunara fell into step beside him as the four of them turned toward camp together, morning stretching bright and quiet across the field ahead. The camp came into view beyond the rise much as they had left it, though the morning had made everything smaller.

The remains of the fire sat black beneath a thin veil of ash. Packs and blankets lay where the night had abandoned them, and Navian remained stretched beneath his cloak near the center of it all, motionless except for the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Oesora quietly slipped away from the others and lowered herself into the grass, one hand settling lightly against his shoulder before the familiar white glow returned beneath her palm.

Lunara watched her for a moment, then looked farther across the camp.

Karneth sat alone.

He had chosen a place beyond the dead fire where the grass sloped gently toward the open field. One axe rested across his knees, the other beside him, and a square of cloth moved steadily along the broad face of the blade. The steel already shone.

Again.

Then back.

Lunara slowed. “Morning, Karneth?”

The cloth stopped.

Karneth looked up. For the briefest instant, something of the old Karneth surfaced. It managed only a tired smile.

“Morning, lass.”

Lunara’s own smile faltered slightly.

Jaeshu set the sack down near the fire. Gaz said nothing, though his attention had shifted from the supplies to the dwarf. Even Oesora glanced over from Navian before returning to her work.

Lunara walked closer. “How are you?”

“I’m alive. Good to have you two back.” Karneth lowered his eyes to the axe and began rubbing the same stretch of metal again.

She looked around the camp. Then farther into the field. “Where’s... Beeps?”

The cloth slowed. Karneth’s hand remained against the blade.

“Sent him home.”

Lunara blinked. “Home?”

“Aye.”

He folded the cloth once between his fingers, though there was no clean side left to find. “Figured it was time.”

“He’s gone?” Lunara’s brows tightened as she searched backward through the last day. “He... Beeps went home?”

Karneth nodded. “He’ll be better there.”

His thumb pressed hard into the cloth as he dragged it along the edge of the axe. “Safer.”

The archer’s shoulders sank.

“Karneth...” Her eyes were already wet. She swallowed whatever wanted to come next and crouched beside him. “Are you okay.”

The dwarf gave a small breath that might once have become a laugh.

“Aye.”

“Hey.” Lunara rested a hand against his shoulder. “We’ll find you another one.”

The cloth stopped. Karneth stared down at the blade.

“No.”

His fingers closed slowly around the rag. “No more animals.”

Lunara’s hand slipped from his shoulder. The cloth passed over the same clean stretch of steel again.

The archer sat with him and watched in comforting silence.

Over near the remains of the campfire, Jaeshu began unpacking.

What had seemed a shapeless burden on his shoulder proved more useful piece by piece. Bundles of dried meat and hard bread came first, followed by two stoppered bottles, several rolls of clean cloth, a small tin of salve, and enough gathered herbs to draw Oesora’s attention from Navian.

She remained beside him, one hand still resting against his chest while the other reached for the nearest bundle.

“Where did you find these?”

“An abandoned wagon,” the ranger said. “Most of it was still dry.”

Oesora loosened the cord and inspected what lay inside. Leaves, roots, and several small flowering stems had been wrapped separately in scraps of linen rather than thrown together.

Her eyebrows rose. Jaeshu shrugged. “I listened when you talked.”

The priestess smiled.

Gaz stepped nearer, his attention settling instead upon the supplies spread across the grass. “Well. That is rather more than I expected.”

Around them, the camp had begun to resemble something functional again. Lunara bound new arrows into her quiver. Jaeshu repacked what they would not need immediately, separating food from medicine and tools. Gaz tested the weight of his staff in one hand, satisfied when the violet shimmer answered without hesitation. They had food, medicine, arrows, a road, and power enough to use again. Across the fire, Karneth’s cloth continued its slow passage over the blade.

No one said anything for a while.

“Right then.” Gaz studied the rations spread across the grass, measuring what remained against whatever road awaited them. Beyond the supplies, his gaze settled upon the dark wall of Ilvarin’del behind them. “It would seem we have, for the moment at least, removed provisions from our list of immediate disasters. We should have enough to travel comfortably enough from here.”

“Hopefully.”

Jaeshu stood several paces away, looking in precisely the opposite direction, toward the distant country that would eventually lead them to Ironspines.

Lunara’s eyes moved between them. Gaz stood facing Ilvarin’del; several paces away, Jaeshu had turned east toward Ironspines. It took another heartbeat for either man to realize they were contemplating entirely different journeys.

Jaeshu’s brow tightened. “Wait, are you...”

The wizard leaned more heavily upon his staff. “...Are you?”

Oesora rose from beside Navian and approached with the wary expression of someone trying to solve a puzzle whose pieces had already begun arguing with one another. “Gentlemen?”

Gaz shifted his weight. “You aren’t seriously considering continuing forward.”

Jaeshu looked at him. “Was there another plan?”

“Ranger, at some point prudence has to enter into this.” Gaz turned fully toward him. “Oesora and I have only just recovered. My brother is still unconscious. You and my sister found no horses, no mounts, no wagons, and the closest thing we have to a road leads directly toward a troll.”

“The troll does not span the width of Aranthor, wizard. We go around it.”

“There is also an elven assassin somewhere behind us whom we cannot account for.”

Jaeshu pulled one of his gloves free, throwing it on the ground. “Gods, this motley boat has no rudder...”

Gaz let that pass as his attention moved instead to his sister.

“Lunara?”

She had been quiet until then. Her eyes went first to Karneth, still apart from them, then to Oesora and finally toward the forest they had escaped. “I guess... I do want to see Lilly again,” she admitted. “Bring her back to Bahlara.” Her fingers worried absently at the edge of her quiver. “I don’t know.”

“Yes. And I have a family.” Gaz’s voice had lost its edge now. “We have done far, far more than anyone could reasonably have expected of us. No one could blame us for turning back and seeing our families again.”

Lunara began turning the tip of her bow into the ground. “I assumed we were gathering supplies to head back home.”

Jaeshu shrugged, his attention settling on Lunara instead. “You want us to turn around.”

“I just don’t see what else the five of us can do, Jaeshu.” She slung her bow over her shoulder. “You saw what I saw last night. More goblins? A troll? I figured that settled it as soon as we saw it.”

“So we take the other road.”

“Towards what? The other road?” The young archer crossed her arms. “I mean... what are we expecting to find closer to the Ironspines? Fluffy goblins?”

“The forest is likely clear now, thanks to Navian,” Gaz continued. “Surely there is no great shame in returning to Caerhaven long enough to remember what rested and properly fed people feel like. We can replace what we have spent, find mounts...” He looked at each member. “And perhaps, once we are thinking like ourselves again, we may find there is rather less shame in returning home than we presently seem inclined to assign it.”

“And what of your brother?”

Everyone turned. Oesora felt herself shrink beneath their attention. For a heartbeat she looked almost startled by her own interruption, as though the question had belonged safely inside her until that moment. Her eyes dropped briefly to Navian.

“What of your brother?” she repeated, quieter now.

Gaz shook his head. “We can fasten something together to carry him...”

“That’s not what I meant.”

The answer stopped him. Oesora drew a breath. “He will awaken. You all know he will. Tomorrow. Next week. But sometime, he will.” The priestess’s attention remained fixed on Gaz. “And when he opens his eyes and learns that we turned around and went home, what do you think he will do?”

“He will be alive.”

“No.” The sharpness in her voice caught all of them. “Do not act as though I know your brother better than you do.”

Something had kindled behind the priestess’s eyes now, quiet but unmistakable.

“You know what he would do. He would feel betrayed. Then he would stand, take up his shield, and start east again.” Her voice tightened. “Only this time, he would go alone.”

“Oesora—”

“Turning back would not save him.”

Whatever Gaz had meant to say died before reaching his mouth.

The camp went still around them. No one seemed particularly interested in meeting anyone else’s eyes.

“...About Caerhaven.”

Karneth’s voice came from behind them. The dwarf approached without hurry, his axes hanging at his sides, his expression giving away very little. “Last night, two direwolves came while you and the priestess were sleepin’... or whatever the hell it was you were doin’.”

“Karneth!” Lunara’s mouth opened. “Why didn’t you tell—”

“Orath,” Karneth continued, hard and flat enough to cut through her. “Sick with it, through and through. Me and the bramble got rid of them easily enough. But they were the ones from the Caerhaven stables. No mistaking that.”

The blade of grass went still between Jaeshu’s teeth as he looked toward Ilvarin’del.

“So it’s inside Caerhaven.”

“Aye.” Karneth stopped among them. “Your safe plan isn’t safe, wizard.”

Gaz lowered his head over his staff and breathed out slowly. For once, nothing followed.

“And if I’m bein’ honest with ye all,” the dwarf added, “I’m up for some killing right now. Not running.”

Lunara watched him.

Gaz stared into the grass. “Then Caerhaven may need help.”

Jaeshu plucked the blade of grass from between his lips and flicked it into the morning air.

“Look. I still don’t give a damn which way you choose.” His gaze followed the grass only until the wind took it. “I’m here until Ironspines. Nothing more, nothing less. You go forward, I go forward. You turn back, I’ll find some other group of foolish fools.”

“You’d understand if you had a family,” Gaz said.

Jaeshu’s eyes settled on him.

“And you’d understand if you didn’t.”

Lunara looked down at the scattered supplies, then past them toward the white-armored figure lying in the grass. Whatever direction they chose, one problem remained exactly where it had been all morning.

“We’re arguing about where to go,” she said, “and we still haven’t figured out how to move him.”

Gaz turned toward Karneth. “That, I believe, is your expertise. What would we need?”

“For a reinforced litter?”

Karneth squinted toward the sky before dropping his attention to the earth around them. “Two straight poles. Long ones. Heavy. Nine feet if we can get ’em. Three crossbars. Rope if we have it, leather if we don’t. Two blankets, one for padding. Four good straps for the shoulders.”

His eyes moved across the group. “And four of us to carry him. He weighs enough without all that bloody steel. I’m guessin’ the priestess is out.”

A voice drifted across the morning before anyone could answer.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Soft words, but they carried all the same. Every head turned. Navian looked up at them from bended knee, one hand braced against the earth, a small, weary smile upon his face.